Nightmare
by Nitroid
Summary: Grimmjow gets pure service from six sexy Ichigos in his dream. When he wakes up, reality gives him a punch in the gut. Literally. Grimmjow/Ichigo, Ichigo/Grimmjow, and all round crack.


**Grimmjow gets pure service from six sexy Ichigos in his dream. When he wakes up, reality gives him a punch to the gut. Literally.**

Birthday fic for the gorgeous Maline, hardcore GrimmIchi shipper and plushie maker. Thank you so very much for the owl plushie, love.

x

He slid through the door to his quarters and quickly shut it behind him with a quiet click. The day's mission was over and he was never this glad to be home in Las Noches. After travelling to several different towns in the Human Realm, Grimmjow felt like all of his energy was fully zapped out of his very soul, probably due to the long hours spent in his stuffy gigai. Slipping his feet out of his standard black boots, Grimmjow leaned against the wall with one hand, heaving a small sigh.

"Would you like me to polish your boots?"

"Yeah." Grimmjow replied as he started to yawn.

He stopped mid-way, letting his mouth remain open comically as he stared at the sight before him with widening eyes.

Ichigo stood before him garbed in the shortest black and white maid's dress, all frills and lace and sheer pantyhose. There seemed to be more pantyhose than there was frilly skirt to cover Ichigo's lower regions. Grimmjow was sure he heard his jaw hit the floor with a dull clunk.

"W – What the hell are you doing here, Shinigami?" Grimmjow roared, reaching out to grab the orange haired boy by the collar.

"Careful, Master!" Ichigo pouted, looking alarmed. "The lace rips easily!"

Grimmjow released him like he'd just touched sizzling hot coals.

Smoothing out his dress, Ichigo ducked down and picked up his boots before standing up and smiling at him. "You're very aggressive today, Master!"

Cerulean eyes glared at him. "What the hell's going on here?"

"You seem tired, Master." Orange hair came into view as another Ichigo sidled up to him.

This one was partially naked, save for a fluffy white towel wrapped around his waist. Actually, the towel seemed way too short for its own good. Grimmjow could just make out the smooth curves of Ichigo's ass as he took him by the hand and pulled him away from the wall.

"Why don't we take a hot bath together? I'll even give you a massage." Ichigo said in a low, sultry voice, a sexy smirk sculpting his pouty lips as he wiggled his hips for emphasis. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

Grimmjow felt his mouth flap open and close like a fish gasping for air.

The Ichigo dressed in the maid's dress pushed Grimmjow from the back gently. "Go with Ichigo. I'll finish shining your boots and get everything ready."

"Get what ready?" Grimmjow managed to ask before he was pulled into his bathroom.

In there, he stared at his surroundings. The white wall tiles were practically sparkling, and steam was fogging up his large oblong mirror as the bath magically seemed to fill itself with hot water. Ichigo was advancing toward him, hands reaching out to touch his arms. Grimmjow flinched as Ichigo touched his cheek, fingers tracing the ridges and grooves of his white bone mask.

"Come here, big boy."

Still unsure of what was going on, Grimmjow allowed himself to be led into the bathroom until he was standing on the fluffy white mat that stretched from the circular tub to the sink. Ichigo reached for his jacket, gently tugging it off his shoulders and folding it before placing it in a netted basket meant for laundry.

"I can undress myself." Grimmjow muttered, backing away slowly. "But if you think I'm stupid enough to get into that bath with you, you're definitely gonna taste the end of my sword."

Ichigo fluttered his eyelashes at him, sliding out of his short towel. "I'd love to taste your sword, Grimmjow. But if I were to taste it . . ."

He leaned in close to the Espada, who leaned away as far as his back could stretch.

"I'd definitely want to taste your whole length."

Grimmjow felt the teen's hands sliding down his chest to his navel, where slim, slender fingers traced abstract patterns over the numerous faded scars on his torso. Ichigo pulled him in by his waist, planting hot, open mouthed kisses along the line of his jaw as his fingers deftly undid the black sash that held Grimmjow's white pants up.

"I've always wanted to know, Grimmjow." Ichigo purred into his left ear. "Do Espada wear underwear?"

Feeling a spike of annoyance rise up to drown his stunned amazement, Grimmjow regained some of his composure as he straightened up, allowing his pants to slide to the floor, accompanied by his sash.

Ichigo giggled. "Guess not."

"This is really crazy." Swatting the teen's hands away, Grimmjow massaged his temples. "Did I eat too many Hollows? Maybe Szayel injected me with some new chemical. Am I a lab rat now? Is there a camera here watching my every move?"

Watching the blue haired Espada with a sultry look, Ichigo placed one hand on Grimmjow's bare length and stroked him awake.

"The only camera in here watching you right now is me." Ichigo smirked, using his free hand to tap the side of his head. "And I'm storing all the images right here."

Grimmjow swore, pulling away – gently but firmly, because Ichigo's hand was still wrapped around his cock – and hissed like an angry cat.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Grimmjow kept backing away until he hit the wall. "You don't just go around touching people like that!"

Ichigo ran a hand through his spiky hair, mussing it up as he stretched and swiveled his hips left and right in what was supposed to be an enticing move. He advanced toward Grimmjow with a knowing smirk sculpting his pouty lips.

"Would you rather I touch myself instead?" He asked in a low drawl, running his fingers down his chest, stopping at his navel before leaning close to Grimmjow and breathing into his ear. "You're kinky, I like that."

Sliding away from the hungry looking teen, Grimmjow made a face. Ichigo was scaring him, but he wasn't going to admit it to the teenager. He was a Shinigami for Hell's sake. And he had no right to be intruding in Grimmjow's quarters. Heck, he wasn't even supposed to be in Hueco Mundo!

"Look, I don't know how you got into Las Noches without tripping any security alarms, but there's something you need to know." Grimmjow glared. "You don't belong here. Go back to wherever you came from!"

"Of course I didn't trip any alarms." Ichigo waved a hand airily, not looking fazed in the least. "I'm in your head."

In his head?

Grimmjow did a bit more glaring while he tried to wrap his brain around what Ichigo had just told him. So this was just some sort of weird dream? It felt so real though; his sense of touch and smell could tell him as much. He could feel Ichigo's skin and breathe in the cinnamon-like scent the boy always had on him.

If this really was a dream, then it was a pretty realistic one. Anyway, he should be waking up from this nightmare soon. Espada and hormonal teenage boys didn't go well together.

Tired of waiting for Grimmjow to make his move, Ichigo wrapped his slender fingers around his own cock and pumped himself, tongue slowly running over the top row of his teeth as he lowered his eyelids. His face took on a blissful expression as he stroked his cock, panting when his tip began to dribble pre-come down his shaft and trailing onto his inner thighs. He looked so absorbed in pleasing himself, but Grimmjow wasn't fooled. He could see the sly look Ichigo was giving him, and that irked the Espada.

Still, if this was just a dream, then all of the strangeness would just be something his mind conjured up, right?

"Is everything alright?" Maid Ichigo popped into the bathroom suddenly. "You guys have been taking too long in here."

"Blame Grimmjow." Ichigo pouted petulantly. "He doesn't want to get into the bath with me. I even offered to scrub his back and give him a massage and a blowjob, but he refused."

Maid Ichigo frowned up at Grimmjow, who looked stunned.

"What?" The Sexta folded his arms across his chest. "You didn't say anything like that!"

Naked Ichigo snickered. "Well, I just did. Make up your mind."

True.

He couldn't really argue with that, but even if this was just some dream he was having, Grimmjow didn't want to give in so easily.

"I do want a hot bath, but I don't need you in here with me." Grimmjow rolled his shoulders as he sighed.

"But it's no fun if I just sit here and watch you bathe by yourself." Naked Ichigo kept his pout on – something Grimmjow thought made him look extra cute, but then kicked the thought out of his mind immediately – and took the Espada by the hands. "Come on, be a sport. You can watch me do a lap dance for you. A wet one. I bet you'd like that, wouldn't you?"

Smooth.

Or would have been, had Grimmjow actually known what a lap dance meant.

Either way, he figured it wasn't something that would benefit his ego right now. Grimmjow made a face at the orange haired teen.

"No. I wouldn't. Go away. Get out of my head."

"Why so serious?" Naked Ichigo pouted, disappointed with his response. "Lighten up!"

Maid Ichigo stood by the door, leaning against the frame as he carefully folded new articles of clothing for Grimmjow and placed them one by one on the dry sides of the marble sink for later usage.

It didn't seem like there was anywhere else to run to. After all, these Ichigos were in his _head_.

Grimmjow lifted one leg tentatively and slipped into the tub. Naked Ichigo shared a knowing smile with the one in the maid's dress before sliding into the water to join the Espada. They sat at opposite ends and watched each other with wary eyes in the quiet of the heat. Grimmjow only jumped when Maid Ichigo appeared at the side of the circular tub, slipping out of his maid's dress with a smile.

"Can I join you?" Maid Ichigo asked, though now Grimmjow couldn't really tell which Ichigo was which; both were naked and smirking and looking utterly delicious yet scary at the same time.

It was nerve wracking.

"No." Grimmjow wanted to swat him away, but Maid Ichigo was already in the middle of climbing in.

"Too late." Naked Ichigo said gleefully.

Within seconds, both had pounced on him, rambling out statements rather than offers to wash his back, scrub his underarms and even give him a good rub-down with a hard loofah on a stick-like handle. Grimmjow was sure he screamed.

Not out of fear or terror or anything; as Sexta Espada he had gone through his share of gristly, horrifying things, but mostly out of shock and meek objection.

Of course, it wasn't that bad, because midway into the scrubbing, one of the Naked Ichigos had ducked down with the loofah and did things to his cock like no other loofah-wielder could do; leaving Grimmjow to stagger out of the bath like he was completely sapped of energy – and feeling like his cock had just been through one of the best times of his life.

Well, sort of.

If only he'd known how magical Ichigo's fingers could be; maybe he wouldn't have punched him so often back when they'd been duking it out in the sands then.

And that mouth, with that slippery, warm wet tongue?

Just sinful.

Sliding the bathroom door open, Grimmjow wrapped a fluffy white towel round his waist half-heartedly, limping back to his bed and crashing down onto his bouncy mattress in freefall. He felt weak and sleepy and exhausted, blaming it all on the tiring missions Aizen had ordered him to complete today as well as the marvelous tongue and warm mouth Ichigo had demonstrated in detail during bath time earlier.

"Are you going to sleep now?"

Grimmjow felt the dip in the mattress as one of the Ichigos sat on his bed beside him. He felt too sleepy to reply. Besides, Ichigo was annoying. His hands were nice, though.

"I'm gonna give you the massage I promised, okay?"

"Mmm." Grimmjow closed his eyes and willed his mind to calm down.

This was just a dream, after all. It didn't matter how real Ichigo's hands felt, like the touch of his skin on Grimmjow's arm, or the warm breath tickling the back of his neck as Ichigo leaned down to speak to him. Anyway, Ichigo was a skilled masseuse. His thumbs could pinpoint the exact sore spots between Grimmjow's shoulder blades, and his fingers worked magic on his aching shoulder muscles.

Grimmjow felt like he was about to drift into sleep, which was actually pretty funny considering the fact that he was dreaming. Could you fall asleep in a dream you were already dreaming? Could you even dream of yourself sleeping in a dream? It was weird, but this was happening like it was something real.

Either way, he succumbed to sleep.

For a whole fifteen minutes.

Ichigo's hands had already worked their way past the loose black sash and were now infiltrating his pants, fingers sliding gently over his growing erection. Grimmjow hissed and was instantly on full alert. He couldn't let his guard down with the boy.

"What do you think you're doing?" Grimmjow caught the slim wrists before the youth's hands could work their magic on his privates. "Get off me."

"Don't be like that." Ichigo pouted.

Grimmjow narrowed cerulean eyes at him, hands tightening their grip on Ichigo's wrists. "I don't know what you're getting at, boy. But right now, I want peace and quiet. Got it?"

"Okay." Ichigo's pout grew, and the sorry, crestfallen look on his face tugged at the Sexta's heartstrings.

"Look, just find something to play with, alright?" Grimmjow batted him away and rolled back into a new position on the bed, feeling resigned and weary.

He didn't hear Ichigo's reply. In fact, he didn't hear anything but quiet shuffling for a bit. That was great. He fell asleep within minutes.

Only to be woken up again by what seemed like a dozen hands slipping and sliding up and down his entire body.

Grimmjow opened his eyes and growled, clearly more than a little irritated at being disturbed from rest. His blue eyes widened at the sight of the Ichigos in his room, all sliding around on his bed. There seemed to be more than before; about six by now. Only four were dressed, and they were in strange clothing.

"What the hell?" Grimmjow snarled, only to have his lips covered by a happy looking Ichigo garbed in what looked like a short, tight, white nurse's uniform.

It surprised him to know he was fully naked under the thin cotton blanket. Grimmjow pushed the Ichigo attached to his mouth aside with a careless shove of a hand. Nurse Ichigo flopped to the floor and scowled.

"Did you multiply?" Grimmjow rubbed a hand over his eyes. "Didn't I tell you to leave me?"

"That wasn't what you said, really." Naked Ichigo grinned.

"True that. You said to play with something. We chose you." Maid Ichigo shucked off the last garment on his body – a lacy black silk thong, which slid down his long, tanned legs like well, silk.

Grimmjow vowed not to hyperventilate.

"You had fifteen minutes of peace and quiet. But you never said how long you wanted peace and quiet." Nurse Ichigo pouted.

"So now we're ready to play." Another Ichigo chuckled, fingering the hem of his Espada jacket.

"Is that my jacket?" Grimmjow snarled.

"Yup." Ichigo giggled, wiggling closer to Grimmjow on the bed. "I know it turns you on to see me wearing your shirt."

"Like a boyfriend shirt." Maid Ichigo said, and the rest laughed.

Grimmjow felt a headache coming on.

"Take it off." He growled, massaging his temples.

A collective gasp, followed by smirks all round. "Naughty, Grimmjow. How did you get so eager all of a sudden?"

"Fuck." Grimmjow threw the Ichigos a glare – he counted six; Naked Ichigo, Maid Ichigo, Nurse Ichigo, Ichigo in his jacket, and two more that looked highly suspicious.

"We were waiting for you to say that." They chorused gleefully.

Grimmjow stared at the remaining two, one of which had pure white hair and inverted eyes. He was dressed in the opposite of what the actual Shinigami Ichigo wore. The other Ichigo had a doleful look on his face, and cat ears. And a tail. They matched the color of his hair. Grimmjow wondered if his pubes were the same hue. He had a bell attached to the collar around his neck. The name on the collar said: "Property of Grimmjow Jeagerjacques."

"A kitten." Grimmjow muttered. "A goddamn kitten."

One by one, the Ichigos began undressing. The two that were already nude had their hands on him, pumping his shaft and engaging the Espada in what seemed like the beginning of a rather interesting group sex.

Grimmjow was sure he heard someone screaming bloody murder, but he wasn't quite sure who.

x

". . . okay, Grimmjow?"

There was silence for a bit.

Something slammed into his side, sending him reeling into Stark, who caught him with quick reflexes.

"Don't you ever listen to a thing Ulquiorra says?" Nnoitra leaned over him to leer into his face, pulling back his arm.

"Not quite, but I try to." Grimmjow replied with an empty glare.

Nnoitra massaged his temples. "Y'know, you've been hollering a lot in your room at night lately."

"What of it?" Grimmjow muttered. He hadn't realized those screams were none other than his own.

". . .You alright?"

"Quite."

Grimmjow pushed away from Stark with a barely perceptible nod of thanks, to which the Primera responded with his own graceful one. All the Espada had been called to group into one of Aizen's many meeting rooms to go through the battle plans with their sub-leader, Ulquiorra. There were large maps of Karakura town spread out on the oblong table, and one of the papers was damp with green tea spilled from Yammy's cup.

"As I was saying, we're splitting up into two teams inside Karakura town." Ulquiorra continued without batting an eyelid. "Grimmjow, you're in my team. That includes Stark, Yammy, Szayel and Nnoitra. Alright?"

No. Not alright. Who died and made him Chief?

"Yeah." Grimmjow agreed despite his concurring thoughts. "Alright."

He followed everyone out of the meeting room into the large gaping black hole of the Gargantuan Ulquiorra kindly opened. Somewhere in the middle of the journey, Ulquiorra stopped to direct them.

"The first team gets off through here." He ripped open a space, revealing bright blue sky and a huge stretch of city below. "Halibel, open another particle strand and travel straight through to the first sector."

Grimmjow followed after Halibel in a daze, stopping only when she put a hand on his chest. He gave her a blank stare.

"You're in the second team." She told him quietly.

Halibel had never spoken to him before. This was a bit confusing.

"Team?" Grimmjow answered, puzzled.

Nnoitra growled and yanked at Grimmjow's collar, pulling him back onto Ulquiorra's spirit strand. "What's with you, Grimmjow? Get your head in the game."

An image of Ichigo taking his cock into his mouth smacked the Sexta somewhere in the middle of his eyes.

"Head." Grimmjow replied dreamily. "Sure."

Nnoitra sighed exasperatedly.

"Let's move on." Ulquiorra said, not missing a beat.

Twenty minutes later found them in the middle of a battle, which was rather forced due to the extreme distraction Grimmjow was having.

"You're not supposed to be here." Ichigo was saying, pointing his big ass sword at Grimmjow, who looked dazed. "What are your intentions?"

"Get out of my head." Grimmjow mumbled. "Now's not the time."

He couldn't tear himself away from the slightly tanned, smooth chest of the teen's, peeping out temptingly from the folds of his Shinigami robes. Ichigo looked confused.

"What?"

"Don't play dumb, you know what I'm on about."

"Did Aizen do something to you?" Ichigo asked quietly, the look on his face bordering concern.

"Don't do anything to me, I don't think I can handle it." Grimmjow rubbed at his eyes tiredly.

Ichigo attacked.

The tip of his sword went straight through Grimmjow's arm and out the other side, thanks to loose uniform sleeves. Ulquiorra darted in, seeing his chance, and slashed at Ichigo with a quick flick of his sword. The teen withdrew his weapon and leaped back just in time.

"What is wrong with you?" Ulquiorra gave Grimmjow a stern once-over. "Why can't you focus?"

"I haven't been sleeping much." Grimmjow mumbled sleepily. "Can I just watch?"

Ulquiorra looked like he wanted to strangle a few bears.

"Put your game face on!" Nnoitra bellowed from somewhere above them, where he was in the middle of exchanging slashes with a short white haired Captain. "Don't pussy out just because you need some sleep!"

Stark sauntered over and held out a hand at a surprised looking Renji, who had tried to block his path. "One moment."

He grabbed Grimmjow by the arm and whisked him away onto the top of a building far away.

"Sit here and be good. We'll come back later to get you after we've dealt with them." Stark handed Grimmjow a small plastic bag. "And look what I found blowing around in the air."

"Taro's Balls." Grimmjow read off the bag. "Smells like fish."

"Yeah, a souvenir. You can hold onto it for me until I come back." Stark nodded before using Sonido to enter the battlefield.

The fight lasted quite a while, leaving a lot of destruction in its wake. Grimmjow slept on, huddled up in a corner of the roof of the building he was lying on. Someone approached him, and Grimmjow awoke to the smell of blood and Shinigami.

Ichigo stood over him, sword drawn, dripping blood that was not his and bleeding blood that was. The teen looked torn and battered, but his eyes said otherwise.

"Why come out here if you're not going to fight?"

Grimmjow could feel sleep overtaking him once more, but he didn't want to let Ichigo know. He hoped mumbling something random he'd overheard in a human café would suffice.

"One decaf latte, non-fat, take away please."

Ichigo was silent, probably due to surprise or suppressing his laughter. Either way, Grimmjow could care less.

The plastic bag rustled somewhere in the depths of his pockets as he shifted about, trying to find a better position.

He went back to sleep.

x

"You're awake."

Orange hair and concerned honey brown eyes came into view. Grimmjow groaned. Would this horrible dream never end?

"You're a nightmare. Please stop." Grimmjow held one hand out and pushed feebly at Ichigo's chest.

Strange.

He felt a lot more 'real' than the other 'somewhat real' Ichigos in his dreams. Maybe this was a different sort of dream. Grimmjow couldn't tell.

"Are you alright?" Ichigo placed his hand over his and squeezed gently. "You were out of it for quite a while. Has Aizen been poisoning you?"

"No. I hope not. No poison."

"Have you got a fever?" Ichigo reached out to feel at his face, but the Sexta swatted his hand away quickly.

"You're so annoying." Grimmjow growled. "Just promise me one thing."

Nodding, Ichigo knelt down beside the bed he was on, looking slightly nervous but ready to comply. "Anything you want."

"Just don't take off your clothes anymore. Okay?"

"Um." Ichigo nodded slowly, not quite comprehending. "Alright."

"Great." Grimmjow gave him a light pat on the head. "I think that should have been specific enough. And don't multiply. Stay where you are and don't do a single goddamn thing."

"I do have to breathe, you know." Ichigo looked very amused.

Breathing was alright, as long as he didn't . . . well, do anything remotely dirty with his breath. Seeing images of six Ichigos taking turns to bounce in his lap made his stomach lurch and heartbeat quicken. Grimmjow forced his mind out of the gutter. Breathing was supposed to be clean.

It was safe.

"Do that, then." Grimmjow muttered as he sagged back down into the comfy pillows.

Approximately ten minutes later, Ichigo's hand was gently patting his forehead and neck.

Not again. Ichigo was so very persistent, even in dreams.

Grimmjow heaved a sigh, muttered something about perseverance, and promptly pulled the teen down into a kiss. There was a few minutes of pure shock radiating off the teen. Funny. He used to be more eager. Grimmjow carried on, and stuck his tongue into his mouth.

A hard, stiff punch in his stomach told him he hadn't been dreaming.

x

**The actual version has a lot more sex in it. Might it be at risk of being taken down if I do post it here? **


End file.
